Tonight, I channeled Don McLean.
In the heat of dinner battles, with all men down, nearing defeat, I reached deep within to find my inner strength… I started singing, “Biiite bite bite your chicken tonight!” Hubby jumped in, “Stop your fussing, stop your fighting Roo, and just take a bite.”
Now, if you don’t know who Don McLean is, let me refresh your memory. *clears throat*
“Byyyye bye Miss American pie! Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry…” And so on. Yadda yadda.
My daughter, without missing a beat, followed with, “Bye bye chicken goodbye.” Only her version was much more theatrical and included some interpretive dance with her looking off into the distance and waving goodbye to an imaginary chicken. Quite beautiful, actually.
That’s the kind of family I live in.
I really can’t pinpoint where we went wrong! We made chicken strips! The kid LOVES chicken strips! We figured to take the pressure off a bit after last night’s intensity, we’d go with something partially agreeable. (Don’t worry, they were breaded in whole wheat and fried in olive oil – we pretend to be healthy on fried food night.)
The vegetables on the menu this evening were broccoli and a bag of Roma tomatoes that were nearing the end of their life.
Since Roma’s are incredibly boring as far as tomatoes go, I halved them, and little Roo went to work on seasoning, and arranging them on our badly abused pizza pan (as you’ll recall, pizza is among the agreeable items; this particular pizza pan has seen it ALL). We tossed them in the oven to roast.
We left the broccoli uncooked (“Look at the little trees!”).
Again, after last night’s extreme failure, our plan tonight was simple: tune out the drama, eat slowly, and engage in occasional non-pushy, food based discussion.
“What colors are on your dinner plate tonight?”
“Can you spot the broccoli?”
She spotted it.
But she refused to try a bite.
The evening closed with a dance party in the living room.